


Dance For Me

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 04:31:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: Being married to Happy Lowman feels like another lifetime ago to the reader so, when he walks into the club where she works, it knocks her for six.  They’ve both changed over the years, her more so than him, but, when old feelings rise to the surface, will he be able to accept the lifestyle that she’s chosen for herself?  Or will their differences drive them apart once again?





	Dance For Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from @queenmorbid on Tumblr and it’s my first time really writing Happy, so I hope it’s okay. I’d also like to give a shoutout to @catmasterfunk for all of her help with this one. I hope I did it justice!
> 
> ‘I was wondering if you could do a happy x reader where the reader and Happy were married before but ended up getting a divorce and she moved out of Charming and became an exotic dancer and one day happy stumbles across that town and he just gets super jealous and yeah please a lot of fluff and possessive happy.’

As soon as you saw Happy’s face, you knew it was all over.  Your movements faltered as you lost your place in the routine that you’d perfected over endless nights twirling around the elevated stage, and you were grateful for the throbbing bass of the music that drowned out the gasp of shock that fell from your lips.  There were several dozen sets of eyes glued to you, hooded and hungry, but you knew the exact moment that his picked you out, his stare scorching hot, though the sweat that had formed on your skin as you danced turned cold, sending a chill down your spine.  

How long had it been?  Years, for sure.  Two, nearly three.  You’d pushed it out of your mind, packing your things and heading out of Charming, intent on getting as far away from your messy divorce as possible, but it seemed that you hadn’t run far enough.  Not far enough for your heart that still worried for your ex-husband, your traitorous body that still longed for him in the loneliest hours of the night, and not far enough that he’d never find you, because there he was, standing frozen in place, a scowl darkening his features as he took in the curves of your body, on show for all of the crowd to see.  

The stage lights danced across your face, blinding you, and you took that second to steady yourself, sucking in a deep breath and counting yourself back in to the rhythm, your hips swaying as you prepared to launch yourself back into your performance.  Because it didn’t matter, you told yourself.  It didn’t matter that Happy was standing in the club where you worked; it didn’t matter if, with each glimpse you caught of him as you whirled around, his fists were clenched, the muscles in his arms straining as he watched the men around him watching you; and it didn’t matter if tears were trickling from your eyes, tracking thin black lines of mascara down your cheeks.  Nobody was looking at your face, so that didn’t matter at all.  This was your life, a new life that you’d built for yourself, without him, and you loved it.  Whatever he was thinking, whatever he’d undoubtedly have to say, it didn’t matter.  But, when the music stopped, and a chorus of whistles and applause went up from the edges of the stage, you didn’t pause to revel in the attention as you normally would, ignoring the proffered dollar bills and shouts for more.  You turned on your heel and hurried away without looking back.

 

* * *

 

It hadn’t taken long to scrub your face free of make-up and shrug into your clothes, tugging up your jeans so hard that the ripped knees tore further in protest, and fighting with the twisted neckline of your sweater as you stumbled out of the dressing room door.  A couple of the other girls were loitering, sharing a cigarette as they waited for their turn to do their thing, and they called out to you as you brushed past.

‘Hey, Y/N!  You killed it out there, babe!’

‘It’s a good crowd tonight,’ you told them on autopilot, shaking your head when they offered you the smoke.  ‘I can’t, sorry.  Gotta run.  Have a good night, ladies.’

The dancers were instructed to park their cars in the small lot at the back of the venue, where security could keep an eye, stop any overzealous spectators from thinking they could get more than their money’s worth when the girls had left the stage.  You welcomed the chill of the night air as you burst through the fire exit at the rear of the building, tripping down the step in your urgency, only remaining upright when the meaty hand of Charlie, the guard on shift, wrapped around your arm.  

‘Woah, you good, Y/N?’

‘I’m good,’ you assured him as you regained your balance, shrugging your bag back up onto your shoulder.  ‘Sorry, I just- I need to get going.’

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah, it’s fine.  I just…’  You tailed off as movement in the shadows caught your eye, and a loud sigh escaped you when you recognised the tall figure moving into the warm glow of one of the lights that bordered the lot.  ‘Shit.’

‘Y/N?’  Charlie’s concern was evident in his voice, and he moved to step in front of you, only stopping when you laid a hand on his chest.

‘It’s okay, Charlie.’

‘You should get back inside.’

‘No, I can’t.  I have to do this.’

‘Who the hell is he?’

‘I’m her husband, asshole.’  Happy had been prowling closer as the guard tried to usher you back through the door, and his gruff growl raised goosebumps over your skin.  ‘We need to talk.’

Again, Charlie moved to defend you, and you stepped around him, squeezing his arm gratefully.  ‘I promise, it’s all good, okay?  I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Alright.’  You could tell he still didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much he could do as he watched you walk away, your ex at your side, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back almost instinctively, like it belonged there.

You flinched away from Happy’s touch, fumbling in your bag for your keys, as you headed for your car, not wanting to have this conversation in public.  You hated the feelings that just the brush of his fingers against your spine was awakening within you, fighting them down, wishing you could be immune after all the time that had passed, though it seemed now that he’d always be your weakness.

‘I’ll drive,’ Happy told you as you rounded the little convertible that you’d picked out more for the colour that anything else, but you shook your head.

‘No, it’s my car.  I’m driving.’  He bristled at the authority in your tone, unaccustomed to being shut down that way, and you softened slightly.  ‘You don’t know the way, Hap.’

‘Fine.’

He folded his long body into the passenger side as you stuffed your bag behind your seat and started the engine, wondering how in the hell you were going to get the both of you back in one piece when just the heady scent of his leather was sending your mind reeling, dragging you into memories that you’d avoided for too long.  Breathe, you told yourself.  Just breathe.  And when the car rolled out of the lot, you flicked the radio on and tried to ignore the ghost of your past as he watched your every move.

 

* * *

 

‘Nice place.’  Happy’s eyes were flicking every which way as you led him down the hallway of your apartment, switching on the light in the large living room and tossing your bag onto the table.  ‘It’s big.  Just you here?’

‘Yep,’ you told him, curtly, shutting down any further questioning until you were ready.  ‘You want a drink?’

‘Got beer?’

‘Sure.’

You left him then, trusting he’d make himself comfortable while you busied yourself in the kitchen, fetching a couple of bottles from the fridge and taking off the caps.  In the darkness, the only thing you could see from the kitchen window was your own reflection and you took a second to study yourself, hating the panic you saw in your wide eyes, the thin set to your mouth.  It had been a long time since you’d seen yourself looking so fraught and you smoothed your hair back from your face, forcing your racing pulse to calm, before you scooped up the drinks and steeled yourself for what was to come.

You found Happy propped against your balcony windows, staring out at the city, neon lights flashing from down below.  He didn’t look up when you walked in, and you took the opportunity to take in the changes that had taken place since you’d left Charming.  You could see a couple of new tats poking out beneath the sleeves of his shirt, and you were sure there’d be a few more smiley faces inked onto the taut skin of his stomach.  His face was more finely lined, especially around the eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked.  Otherwise, he was the same man you remembered, same tanned skin, same leather kutte, though with a new Sergeant-At-Arms flash that you didn’t remember seeing before, and same accusing stare that he fixed on you now as you handed him his beer.  You ignored it, turning your back on him to cross to the couch, dropping down on it heavily and tucking your feet up beneath you.

‘Nice to see some things haven’t changed,’ he observed, raising an eyebrow as he took in the familiar position that you’d curled yourself into, and you felt your cheeks flush with a heat that only intensified when he settled himself at the other end, stretching one arm along the back of the cushions, his fingertips grazing your shoulder.  ‘It’s been too long, little girl.’

‘Nearly three years.’

‘Looks like you’re doing alright for yourself.’

‘I get by.’  You didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was smirking, so you changed the subject, moving the conversation on to safer ground.  ‘How’s the club?’

‘Troubled,’ he admitted.  ‘Got into some dark shit a while back.  Leaves a mark.’

‘I’ll bet.’  You hated to think what qualified as dark shit in your ex-husband’s book.  Gun-running, murder, drugs… all of it had been just a standard day on the job before you’d left, straining your relationship to breaking point, so, if he was worried about the direction things had taken, you were sure it was a lot heavier than you wanted to know about.  ‘That why you’re here?  Club business?’

He nodded but didn’t offer any more information, and you took a sip of your drink, staring out at the view, wishing you didn’t feel so damn uncomfortable and so perfectly natural in his company at the same time.  ‘Didn’t think I’d find you here.’

‘I’ve been here a while,’ you told him.  ‘Pretty much since I left.’

‘Why here?’

‘Why not?’  There was a challenge to your tone, almost as if you were daring him to question your decisions, and you supposed you were.  You knew it was coming.  

‘And the dancing, you been doing that a while too?’

‘Yep.’

He shook his head and you resisted the urge to drive your elbow into his ribs.  Who the hell was he to look down on you?  It wasn’t like he had the most kosher means of earning either and at least you’d never killed anyone.  ‘Can’t say you didn’t look good up there.’

‘I know.’

‘I miss you.’

You opened your mouth to shoot back a retort, letting it snap shut again as you processed the confession.  He’d missed you.  You let it sink in, savouring the feel of it as it warmed your heart, just a little.  Happy had missed you.  As in, he’d actually noticed your absence, wished you weren’t gone, maybe imagined you when he was at home alone like you did him.  The walls that you’d thrown up when he’d entered the club began to crumble and you swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze as you murmured, ‘I miss you, too.’

‘Nothing’s felt right since you left.’

‘I had to, Hap.’

‘I know.  Things got bad-’

‘Really bad.’

‘-but I could have fixed it, Y/N.  I would have.  I just needed time.’

‘You never had time,’ you pointed out.  ‘That was half the problem.  I always came second to the club, always.  And third to your mom, which I got, okay?  I understood that.  But it sucked, Happy.  You were never around.  I’d go weeks barely seeing you.  It was driving me crazy.’

‘I know.’

Of course he knew.  You’d had enough fights about it, but they’d never solved a thing, and it wasn’t long before you’d known you had to leave, get out before you ended up killing each other.  Not that Happy had ever laid a hand on you, but you’d seen the tension in his jaw when you’d screeched at him, hurling accusations in his face as he fought to keep his temper, and you knew the sort of people that he mixed with wouldn’t think twice of putting down a woman that didn’t know their place.  Hell, you’d seen the state of Ima after Jax had beat her down for sleeping with Opie.  You never wanted your relationship to be tainted by that.

‘How is your mom?’ you asked now, trying to lessen how harsh you’d sounded.  You really did care about her.  She’d been nothing but kind to you, and you’d hated watching her deteriorate in front of your eyes.  But Happy was smiling, a hint of relief in his voice as he replied.

‘She’s good.  Meds are finally working.  Looking like her old self again.’

‘That’s really good, Hap.  You’ll have to send her my love.’

‘Or you could give it to her yourself.’  

Your heart skipped a beat as he pinned you to the couch with his intense stare, leaning over so the fingers that had rested on your shoulder could stroke through your hair.  ‘I don’t think-’

‘You could come back with me.  Give it another shot.  I’d make it better, I promise, little girl.  I’d look after you this time.  Get you away from all this.’

He’d been reeling you in, filling you with false promises, intensifying your need to feel loved, to feel him, but that last declaration had you pulling away, your eyes narrowing.  ‘Away from all what?’

‘This.  The dancing.  The pervs watching you.  You’re better than this, Y/N.’

‘No.’  You edged away, burying yourself into the corner of the couch in your efforts to put yourself out of his reach.  ‘No, it’s not like that.  Don’t make it sound so-’

‘Cheap?’

‘No, it’s not.  It’s not cheap, it’s…’  You took a deep breath, shaking your head.  ‘I love it, okay?  I do.  I enjoy it.’

‘How can you enjoy that?’

‘How can I enjoy feeling sexy?  Empowered?’

‘You feel empowered up there?’

‘Yeah, I do.’  He was looking at you like you were crazy and you felt a sudden desperate need to make him understand.  ‘I feel beautiful up there, Hap.  Those guys, they’re mesmerised by me when I’m dancing.  It’s not cheap, it’s… it’s art.  I spent so much of my life fighting to come first with you and with my folks before that, but, when I’m on that stage, I’m the centre of attention, and I feel graceful and beautiful, and I can’t give that up.’

‘It’s dangerous.’

You sighed at his attempts to cover up his jealousy with concern.  ‘Yeah, okay, it is in some places.  First couple of gigs I worked were pretty sketchy, I’m not gonna lie.  But I’ve got a sweet thing going where I am now.  You know, the club, it’s got a good rep round here, and I work with a good group of girls.  They’re crazy talented and they’re like family to me now.  And the bouncers, they look out for us.  It’s not as dangerous as you might think.’

‘Y/N-’

‘Hap, c’mon, would you look at this place just for a second?’  You gestured round at the room you were sitting in.  ‘I pay for this.  I rent this apartment with my own money and it’s good money, babe.  It’s not dirty.  I’m raking it in, and I’m having fun doing it.  You can’t ask me to give that up.’

‘But…’  He broke off without finishing, his face falling as the fight went out of him, and somehow you knew what he was going to say next before he managed to force the words from his throat.  ‘When you used to dance like that, it was only for me.’

Your heart splintered, just a little.  ‘That was different.’

‘How?  You used to dance for me and now you dance for all those guys.’

‘Hap-’

‘I couldn’t stand it.  Seeing their eyes on you.  You still feel like mine.’

You shifted closer, until your leg was pressed to his, twisting to look up into his face, your hand drifting up to stroke over his cheek.  He wasn’t so hard, not really, not with you.  He’d always had a soft side where you were concerned.  ‘It’s different, I promise.  I danced for you because I knew how much you liked it, and I loved that tension, knowing that, when I was done, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.  At the club, I dance for me, because it feels good.  Not one of those guys in there gets to put their hands on me.  I wouldn’t let that happen.’

His mouth was millimetres above yours now, and, as his gaze flicked to your lips, you thought he might kiss you, wanted it more than anything in that moment, but instead he whispered.  ‘Show me.’

‘What?’

‘Dance for me, little girl.  Show me how it’s different.’

You could have said no, you knew that.  You could have denied him and watched him walk away from you, knowing that you wouldn’t ever see him again.  But you couldn’t.  You weren’t ready to let him go just yet, finding that all the effort you’d made to fall out of love with him had been wasted, reversed just by the sheer power of his presence, and so you eased yourself to your feet, reaching for the remote on the coffee table and pointing it at the stereo in the corner.  Music spilled out of the speakers, filling the room, slow and sensual, and your hips began to sway in time as you took Happy’s hand, pulling him upright so you could position him in the empty space behind the couch, his eyes never leaving you as you let yourself go and started to dance.

You could tell the effect you were having on him almost immediately.  The muscles in his arms tensed and flexed as you moved around him, every near-touch causing his jaw to tighten and his breath to catch in his throat.  You thought he might reach for you, draw you in, and you danced ever closer in the hope that he would, but it wasn’t until you let your hand brush over his chest that his fingers caught your wrist, pulling you against him, his mouth crashing down on yours in a kiss so hungry that it stole your breath away.  The song hadn’t finished as he lifted you clear off the ground, your legs wrapping around his hips, body slotting against his like you belonged there, though it faded into silence as he carried you from the room, following your husked directions until he found his way to your king-size bed, tumbling down onto it and pinning you between his arms.

‘I love you.’  He whispered the words against your lips, so that you could taste them, delicious and perfect, and you returned them in kind.

‘I love you, Hap.’

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, you lay in a tangle of limbs, your head cushioned by his arm as he toyed with your hair, twisting it around his fingers.  His other hand stroked over your cheek, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at your face.  ‘I missed this, baby girl.’

‘Me too.’

‘S’never been this good with anyone else.’

You shook your head sadly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, suddenly painfully aware of the choice you were now facing.  You could go back to Charming, slip back into Happy’s life and revel in his affections, hoping, praying, that things wouldn’t go back to how they were.  But that would mean giving up your independence, your freedom, the life you’d worked so hard to build where you were, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let that go just yet.

As if sensing your train of thought, Happy pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.  ‘You’re not coming back with me, are you?’

‘No.’  Your eyes filled with tears as you realised what exactly you might be turning away, and he heard the emotion in your voice, slipping his fingers beneath your chin to force your face up to his.

‘You really like what you’ve got here?’

‘I do.’

‘But you love me?’

‘More than anything.’

He nodded slowly.  ‘So, if I drop in from time to time, take it slow, see where this goes, you’d be okay with that?’

‘How often’s from time to time?’ you asked.  You didn’t want this if it meant only seeing him every few months.  You’d rather not have him at all.  

‘Club’s got business with a charter on the other side of town,’ he told you, watching your reaction as a smile tugged at your lips.  ‘Gonna be riding through three, maybe four times a month.  Could use a place to crash.’

It was more than you’d let yourself hope for, and you captured his lips in a searing kiss, before your doubts brought you up short once again.  ‘But, I mean, my job… Can you find a way to be okay with that?  Because if not…’

‘I’ll adjust,’ he told you confidently, his tongue snaking out to wet his bottom lip as his fingers trailed over your stomach, heading south as your eyes flickered closed.  ‘Long as I’m the only one who gets to do this.’

‘Always.’

And then you were lost in him again, wondering if, after everything, you might actually end up being the girl who got to have it all.


End file.
